


That's Quarantine, Baby

by mfingenius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, M/M, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23910769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfingenius/pseuds/mfingenius
Summary: “Harry, what are you doing?” Draco asks, cautiously. “It’s eleven in the morning.”Harry’s lying on an inflatable pool bed on the grass of their yard, only in his boxers, with sunglasses and a milkshake that smells a lot like muggle rum. Ophelia and Phillip, their adopted crups - who’re already bigger than originally thought, and easily reach Draco’s waist now - are lying on top of him and licking his face, but Harry isn’t reacting.“Time isn’t real.” Harry says, voice muffled.OR the quarantine is driving me a little crazy so I wrote this
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 228





	That's Quarantine, Baby

“Harry, what are you doing?” Draco asks, cautiously. “It’s eleven in the morning.”

Harry’s lying on an inflatable pool bed on the grass of their yard, only in his boxers, with sunglasses and a milkshake that smells a lot like muggle rum. Ophelia and Phillip, their adopted crups - who’re already bigger than originally thought, and easily reach Draco’s waist now - are lying on top of him and licking his face, but Harry isn’t reacting.

“Time isn’t real.” Harry says, voice muffled.

He takes another sip of his milkshake.

Draco sighs. This quarantine is taking its toll on Harry; in the last few years as an Auror he’s gotten used to being on the field all the time - because it’s what he likes - and even when he’s home, he always takes Draco to Quidditch games, or restaurants, or the park, so he’s not used to being home like this all the time.

“Harry,” he says, very patiently. “Come inside, yeah? We’ll - watch a movie or something.”

“We’ve watched everything,” Harry says dramatically.

They haven’t, or at least Draco doesn’t think they have. Muggles seem to have an endless array of movies, so they can’t have _watched everything_ , but Draco doesn’t know it well enough to argue with his boyfriend.

“Alright,” he agrees. “We’ll - bake a cake?”

“I hate baking.”

“We can try to do handstands.”

“I _can_ do a handstand.”

Draco fights the urge to throttle him. “Fine. I’m randy. Come on, fuck me.”

“Be still my heart,” Harry drawls dramatically, but Draco sees his lips twitch. “We said we wouldn’t do it as often anymore.”

The truth is, they’ve always had a particularly active sex life, and without anything else to do, the first few weeks they’d been making love pretty often. Then they’d had a pregnancy scare, and Draco doesn’t want to have a baby yet, so they’d promised they’d slow down. They haven’t, really, but they said they would.

“I changed my mind.” Draco shrugs. “Come on, Potter, I want a baby.”

“No, you haven’t,” Harry grins and sits up, and that’s already a big improvement. “You’re just trying to distract me from the fact that this is the forty second day we’re stuck here.”

Draco shrugs again. Harry stands - much to Ophelia’s and Phillip’s dislike - and finishes his milkshake before walking over to Draco and wrapping an arm around his waist, pecking his lips. 

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“ _Me_?” Draco asks incredulously. “I’m not the one in my pants in our yard at eleven in the morning!”

“No,” Harry agrees. “But you _are_ the one who’s been having wine for breakfast every morning, and dinner most nights.”

He looks pointedly down at Draco’s hand - carrying a nearly empty wine glass - and Draco looks away, cheeks flushing.

Though he’d rather not admit it, he’s being reminded of when he was spying for the order; being locked in the manor, unable to ever leave and fighting for his life every second. He doesn’t like where his mind goes. 

So he’s been having wine for breakfast.

And dinner.

And throughout the day.

It’s not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it’s much better than waking Harry up at night screaming and having to relive the horror of the war every waking minute.

“I’ll try to stop,” Draco tells him; Harry cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll stop. It’s just - hard.”

“I know,” Harry says with a small frown. He kisses Draco’s forehead, and Draco wraps his arms around him, accidentally spilling some wine.

Ophelia catches it in her mouth, and Draco makes a face at her over Harry’s shoulder.

“So what do you want to do?” Harry asks, puling away. He keeps an arm around his waist as they part, and they walk inside and towards the kitchen. Draco dumps the rest of the wine down the sink, and then leaves the glass on the counter. He looks around.

“Well,” he drawls. He wants to say they’ve never done it in the kitchen, but it’s a lie, because since the quarantine started they’ve pretty much lost all sense of decorum and propriety. “Doing it in the kitchen was fun.”

Harry grins, pulls him closer by the hip, and presses a deep kiss to his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading! Find me on tumblr @mfingenius for more of my fics


End file.
